


to love you in word and deed

by YesIsAWorld



Category: Harry Styles (Musician), Louis Tomlinson (Musician), One Direction (Band)
Genre: 5 Times, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2020-12-21 07:56:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21071528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YesIsAWorld/pseuds/YesIsAWorld
Summary: Louis loves everything about living with Harry. Except for Harry's effusive proposals. Because the problem is, it's getting harder and harder for Louis to keep reacting like they're jokes.





	to love you in word and deed

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [disgruntledkittenface](http://disgruntledkittenface.tumblr.com/) for holding my hand through this and helping me figure out tenses and how to structure it. Don't know what I'd do without you!! mwah!!! 
> 
> And thank you [Lauren](http://kingsofeverything.tumblr.com/) for putting together this fest and being the best always!

1.

“Marry me,” Harry says. 

Louis takes another bite of his food, and quickly averts his eyes. 

***

Louis spent more time than necessary getting dinner set up. He could find his way around a kitchen, but pretty much stuck to a standard, rotating menu that didn’t stretch his imagination, wallet, or culinary skills. But for this dinner, he properly menu planned, getting the ingredients in advance, figuring out which protein and vegetable would go best with the chosen carb. He sweat through his shirt by noon, trying to dry his soggy pits in the bathroom at work while not stressing about the first time cooking for his roommate. 

His new-ish roommate, Harry, knew he wasn’t a great cook, and was still thrilled when Louis offered to “throw something together” for him, as an overdue ‘let’s get to know each other’ thing. 

Harry had mentioned a few days prior that he had a craving for the ‘burnt potatoes’ his mom used to make, and Louis, ever the dutiful roommate, knew what that meant because he was an expert at cataloging and remembering everything Harry talked about in the few months they had been living together. Then it was only a matter of finding a recipe that he thought he could manage.

Louis got home from work early, and whipped up the meal for Harry. That made it sound simple. _Whipped up_. In fact, he had nearly sliced off a finger chopping the potatoes and nearly gone hoarse from swearing while trying to follow and correctly time out the recipes. 

Harry’s eyes lit up when he walked in as Louis was putting the finishing touches on everything and putting forks on the table. “Smells amazing, Lou.”

Louis downed a glass of white while Harry was taking off his suit in his bedroom, one thin wall away, to steady his hands. 

All of Louis’ hard work was all worth it for the look of decadence and delight on Harry’s face when he took the first bite. 

Harry’s mid-meal, mid-bite, and the view of half-chewed scalloped potatoes should be off putting when he moans, “Marry me.” Instead, Louis ducks his head, quickly swallows the bite next bite of food he shovels in his mouth, and mutters “glad you like them” before he preens too hard at the compliment. 

Because that’s all it really is, just a compliment. Not an actual proposal or anything. That’s a ridiculous concept. 

  


2.

“Oh my god. Marry me,” Harry says, again, a few months later. 

Louis’ insatiable crush, has, unfortunately, not lessened even the tiniest bit. Instead, it has somehow only gotten worse.

And now, somehow, Louis finds himself sitting astride Harry’s butt, as Harry lays face down on his bed, and Louis rubs lotion into his back. 

***

Harry peeked his head out of his bedroom and into the common space. He was shirtless, and wearing baggy grey sweatpants. They were Louis’ second favorite pants that Harry owned. The first being the tight grey sweatpants he wore when he was relaxing, but also feeling himself. Harry held up a bottle of lotion, shaking it back and forth, and said, “Lou, can I ask you a huge favor?” Harry’s hair was still damp from his shower, and his skin was still slightly pink from the hot water. Louis was going to stop what he was doing and say yes, no matter what the favor. He was helpless to say no to Harry in the best of circumstances, let alone when he looked like that. 

“Can you lotion up my back? It’s feeling dry and like, tight, and I can’t get it all myself.” Harry looked over his shoulder and Louis looked at the sharp line of Harry’s jawline. He wanted to bite it. 

“Sure.” Louis didn’t make any move toward Harry. He clenched the Playstation remote. 

“’Preciate it. Doesn’t have to be now. If you’re like, busy.”

“No. Not busy.” He was about to beat his previous track record for that level, but he was almost positive he could get the mojo back when he came back later. That was definitely a lie he was telling himself. But it was worth it. 

“Cool. Thanks, man,” Harry said with a smile, before disappearing into his room, leaving the door wide open behind him. 

Louis walked in to see Harry already sprawled out across the bed. He allowed himself exactly four seconds just to _look_, taking in Harry’s long legs and funky feet, the tufts of hair in his pits, the bulge of his biceps in the way he was using his arms as a pillow.

“So, just, rub it in?” Louis asked, once he blinked himself out of his trance. 

“Yeah. Here.” Harry tossed the bottle to the foot of the bed. He was taking up too much of the bed and Louis wasn’t sure how to position himself. 

He stood next to the bed, squirted a dollop in his hand, and let the smell of coconuts wash over him. He bent over, ignoring the slight shaking of his hands, and placed them on Harry’s back. He dug his fingers into Harry’s skin, trying and failing to ground himself. 

“Come here,” Harry mumbled into his arm pillow. He lifted one from under his head and swatted at Louis. 

“I am here.”

“No, like, get comfortable.”

Louis’ laugh was high pitched and nervous. He hoped Harry couldn’t tell. “What?”

“Sit.”

“There’s no room. You have to scooch.” Touching was bad enough. Touching while on the same bed was going to send Louis into a nervous breakdown. 

“Just. Sit on me. Better angle anyway.”

“What?” Louis’ voice came out strangled. But, in a cool way. He totally had this under control. 

“Come on, Lou. Don’t make it weird.” Harry always got sleepy after his night time showers, and Louis could already see where this was leading. 

“Fine. Whatever. Weirdo.” Louis swiped what was left of the lotion across Harry’s back, then climbed over his back, until he was sitting on Harry’s butt, knees to the sides of Harry’s hips. 

“Better,” Harry said, putting his arms back under his head. 

Louis started again, another dollop of lotion on his hand, rubbing them together, then placing them flat on Harry’s back. Even though he felt like he was going to burst into horny flames, it was a better position to symmetrically rub in the location. 

He pushed up and out from Harry’s spine with both hands, digging the heels of his palms into Harry’s shoulders, then dragging his hands down Harry’s sides. He did it again and again, trying to alternate how high he was going with the massage, while trying to avoid listening to the moans and grunts that Harry let out. 

Those words, _marry me_, come out just as Louis’ hands start to cramp. His hands still for a moment, as Harry’s sleepy voice washes over him, then he keeps rubbing, so Harry won’t think he’s overthinking those words as they loop in his brain. Harry’s voice is gruff, almost a whisper, and only a few seconds later he lets out a soft, deep snore of someone asleep. 

Louis doesn’t want to wake him. So he tries to make his touches softer and softer until he’s barely grazing Harry’s warm skin. Then he slowly gets up, trying not to jostle Harry below him. He puts the lotion down on his nightstand, then turns off the lights on his way out. 

He shakes his head as he starts up his video game again. He doesn’t know what to do with all his feelings he has toward Harry.

  


3.

“Marry me,” Harry says, as they’re sitting on their couch, many months after the back rub. 

Louis began to think that maybe it was a fever dream, Harry blurting out whatever ridiculous thing he could think of as he was overcome with pleasure. (No. Not _that_ kind of pleasure. Although Louis 100% definitely wants to experience that with Harry as well. But the kind of base carnal pleasure that came from eating a good meal or and getting all the knots worked out of muscles.) But this one arrives with no buildup. It isn’t an over the top exclamation, easily brushed off as hyperbole and or an expression. It’s quiet, private, not really meant for Louis’ ears, and it’s confusing, who Harry is even talking to. But it still makes Louis wonder. 

***

“Do you mind if I have a few people over?” Harry had asked midweek. “This weekend? For my birthday?”

“Yeah, sure. I mean, no, I don’t mind at all.” Louis knew Harry’s birthday was coming up. It was marked on his calendar. Louis, being a Christmas baby, went back home for his birthday, so they had yet to share a birthday together. And at this point, three-fourths of a year into being roommates, Louis certainly considered Harry a friend. 

But. 

They weren’t friends with each other’s groups of friends. Louis had met less than a handful of Harry’s friends, though he knew stories about many more, and Harry had only met Louis’ best friend Calvin, who lived out of town, because he’d crashed on their couch one long weekend. They had both fallen into a groove of hanging out with each other while at home, and with other friends when they were out. Louis tried not to overthink why Harry wouldn’t want him to come out with his friends. If Louis wasn’t cool enough or if Harry didn’t actually consider him a close friend, or if they wouldn’t gel, or whatever the reason was. Louis didn’t ever invite Harry out, because Harry was so overwhelming in every sense of the word that Louis’ friends would see through him in a minute and it’d be game over. Not that they didn’t already suspect that Louis was head over heels for Harry. The constant talking about him was probably the first sign. But, whatever. Harry probably had a line of suitors wanting to woo him, and anyway Louis liked what they had. He didn’t feel the need to rock the boat, which is surely what his friends would have him do, if they were ever to meet. 

“You sure?” Harry confirmed. 

“Yeah. No problem.” Louis scrolled furiously through Twitter. “I can make myself scarce. No need to worry about me.”

“No,” Harry said. “I mean, you don’t have to—I was hoping you’d come. You don’t have to, obviously, it’ll just be, like, pregaming here then hitting up the horseshoe bar or whatever. But you’re definitely invited. It’d be… yeah. You’re welcome to join us.” He said it all in that slow relaxing drawl of his that always hypnotized Louis’ ears. 

“Oh. Cool. Yeah.” Louis stuttered, trying to play it cool. “I’ll keep it open.”

Louis tried not to overthink it when he was out that week and happened to find a near-perfect quality of _Other Side of the Mirror_ at a used record shop. He bought it along with a 30th anniversary version of _Tango in the Night _misfiled elsewhere in the shop. He knew that Harry’s Fleetwood Mac collection was missing both albums and though it was more money then he’d normally spend on anyone’s birthday, he couldn’t pick just one and knew how much Harry would cherish both. 

They were sitting around waiting for the first of Harry’s friends to arrive, when Louis awkwardly thrust the terribly wrapped present into Harry’s hands. 

“Oh, Lou, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know,” Louis said around his mixed drink. “But I saw them and thought of you, so…”

He trailed off as Harry carefully undid the pieces of tape and folded back the reused magazine pages. Harry inhaled sharply when he pulled the records out, then reverently placed his hand on top of them, as though he could draw energy through the plastic wrap.

“They’re perfect,” Harry said, eyes glittering when he looked up at Louis. 

Louis knew they would be a hit, but Harry’s reaction made his heart swell. “You don’t have them, do you?” He didn’t know why he was playing stupid, but the words were already out. 

“No. I can’t wait to listen. Do you think—”

A loud knock on the door interrupted him. 

“Later,” Louis said. “We have lots of time.”

The party was, by all accounts, a hit. Louis got along well with almost all of Harry’s friends and it was such a chill group of people that they just hung around the apartment trying out different cocktails, forgoing a wild and crazy night out at the bar. Harry seemed to be in his element, flitting between conversations, acting as the DJ, and keeping everyone’s drinks topped up. 

Once the last guest left, smacking a kiss on Harry’s cheek and whispering something in his ear that made Harry blush and Louis avert his eyes, Harry came back into the living room holding _Other Side of the Mirror _above his head like a prize. 

“Can we listen now?” Harry asked. 

Louis didn’t glance at his phone to see the time. He knew it was way past his bedtime. But for Harry—on his birthday—yeah. He nodded. “I’m going to get a trash bag started. You put on the album.”

Louis downed a large glass of water in the kitchen, then sorted the bottles and plastic cups into one bag for recycling and started another bag for trash. 

He brought Harry a glass of water when he brought the bags into the living room. The music was playing softly from the speaker and Harry was watching the record spin around and around. 

“Thanks, Louis,” Harry said. “For all everything,” he added a second later.

“’Course.” Louis left the bag of trash in the corner and fell into the couch. “You have a good birthday?”

Harry turned and faced Louis. “The best.”

“Good,” Louis said. “You deserve it.” Harry joined him on the couch. Their thighs were inches apart and Louis felt himself warm from the closeness. “Always deserve the best.”

They sat quietly through one song, and then another. By the time the band was singing about being mystified, Louis was sliding deeper into the couch. He could feel Harry looking at him, but instead of tilting his head to look back, he let his eyes slip shut.

Harry’s voice is barely louder than the stereo. “Marry me.” 

Louis keeps his eyes closed, works hard on keeping his breathing shallow and even, even as his heart pounds. The moment feels too raw to interrupt, if it’s even directed at Louis. It’s more likely Harry’s addressing the witchy, disembodied spirit of Stevie Nicks. 

Harry lets out a wry chuckle. “Fuck I need to get bed,” he says a little louder. 

Louis stays where he is, listening to Harry cross the room and turn off the stereo. “Night, Lou,” Harry says right before he turns off the lights. Louis stays quiet for a handful of more minutes, until he’s sure Harry’s in his room and won’t be coming out again, then he stumbles into his own room. 

They can finish the clean up and deal with the rest of it when they wake up. 

  


4.

_“Mmm_, marry me,” Harry sighs over a cup of coffee. 

Louis bites his lip and turns away. It’s getting harder and harder not to say something to Harry about his undying love with every passing day. 

***

Not too long after the birthday party, Harry started inviting Louis out with his friends, then slowly Louis had been integrating Harry into Louis’ friend group as well. It was going exactly as well as Louis anticipated, with Harry’s friends all being welcoming and super curious about Louis and Louis’ friends repeatedly giving Louis pointed looks every time Louis stared at Harry just a beat too long. 

Harry had sat Louis down one day and confessed that even though they were going out with each other more, he still missed Louis because they were spending less time, _quality time,_ together. They both were working long hours, but Louis came up with an idea that made Harry grin—it was feeling that filled Louis’ chest with joy and he could really get used to that—and Harry quickly agreed. 

They’d both get up an hour earlier in the morning, pulling the other out of bed and guilt tripping each other if necessary. Then they spent that extra hour—for the most part phoneless, unless they had to show each other a meme the other had missed and was integral explain—together. They woke up together as the coffee brewed, then stood in the kitchen together, nibbling a few bites of breakfast but mostly talking: psyching each other up for projects at work, using each other as a sounding board for problems they were having, making small talk about weather patterns, updating each other on their families and friends. 

Louis never ever considered himself a morning person. Pulling himself out of bed was literally the hardest part of his day, but when he got to wake to the thought of spending time with Harry, it got easier and easier. 

They started moving closer and closer as well as the mornings passed, going from standing on opposite corners of their kitchen, mugs clasped between their hands in the middle of their chests, to side by side in front of the coffee machine, their elbows knocking together as they talked. 

“You’re going to do great,” Harry said, wrapping an arm around Louis’ shoulder. Louis leaned into it, breathing in the smell of first-thing-in-the-morning-Harry, before he got in the shower and came out smelling like arctic waterfalls. 

“Hope so,” Louis muttered.

“Lou,” Harry said, squeezing Louis’ shoulder, “I know how hard you’ve worked on the presentation. I’ve heard you reciting pieces of it under your breath for the past week. If upper management won’t take your suggestion of the restructure seriously, then that’s their loss. I know your ideas are brilliant and well thought out.”

It was exactly what Louis needed to hear to tamp down on his anxiety and go into the day feeling more confident. 

“Thanks, H. ’S nice to hear that.”

Harry rocked into Louis’ shoulder, and offered him a soft smile. “It’s true. Anyway, did you do something different to the coffee? It’s so good this morning.” He removed his arm and took a step of distance away from Louis. Louis wanted to draw him back in. 

“Yeah. Since last week you said the new coffee was too strong, I mixed in that other hazelnut one you like sometimes too.”

Harry brought the mug to his face and exaggeratedly inhaled the scent. “No wonder it’s so good.”

“Secret, proprietary recipe though. Not going to share it, so that you can never replace me.” If pushed, Louis would tell him the 3:2 ratio in a heartbeat, which Harry knew, if the fond eye roll was any indication. 

Harry takes another deep breath. _“Mmm_. Marry me, then. Can’t let you go after this wonderous concoction is in the balance.”

Louis laughs, slightly manically to his own ears. “What’s in for me?”

Harry cocks an eyebrow. “Pretty sure I could make it worth your while.”

With a sharp inhale, Louis loses the grip on his mug, and it hits the counter at an odd angle, spinning slightly, then tipping over, spilling coffee all over the counter and breaking into pieces. “Shit,” Louis yelps as he jumps back, out of the splash zone. 

“I got it,” Harry says, automatically reaching for a kitchen towel to stop the coffee dripping onto the floor. 

Yeah, Louis can definitely spend the rest of his life with this man. If only Harry actually felt the same way. 

  


5.

“Marry me,” Harry says, holding out a ring.

Louis opens his mouth to answer, then closes it again.

***

It was the one-year anniversary of their first kiss, a Sunday, thankfully, and Louis had the whole day planned out. He had ordered Harry’s favorite donuts to be delivered, had made a pot of his favorite coffee—still the secret 3:2 ratio blend—and had found all of Harry’s favorite rom-coms on the multiple streaming platforms they subscribed to. Louis planned to make the most comfortable pillow pile on their couch, and wanted nothing more than to lounge around all day, keeping Harry happy and making out with the movies playing in the background. 

He wasn’t innocent; he knew at some point the kissing would turn into more, but his best laid plans involved so much kissing that their lips would be numb and they wouldn’t move towards orgasms until they were literally so turned on they couldn’t wait another moment. 

By the time Harry woke up and stumbled into their living room, Louis was beyond ready to start the day. Louis jumped into Harry’s arms, causing him to take a few unsteady steps backward. 

“What’s got you so happy?” Harry asked, with a sleep-gruff voice. 

“Oh stuff it, like you don’t know I’ve got the whole day planned,” Louis said, before planting a kiss on Harry’s cheek.

“Maybe I’ve got a few things planned as well,” Harry said, putting Louis back on his own two feet, then crowding him against the wall. His mouth smelled minty-fresh and Louis licked his lips before tilting in for a longer lip lock. 

“Better not upstage me,” Louis said when he finally drew away from Harry’s lips. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Harry said with his infuriating smirk that meant he was definitely going to try.

By the time they were on the second movie of the marathon, Louis had almost forgotten that Harry might have something else planned. Louis’ head was on Harry’s lap, and Harry slowly combed his fingers through Louis’ hair, mixing in some scratches and massages as well. Louis rolled his ankles on the other side of the couch, and let out a loud yawn. “Need to get up and stretch or I’m going to fall asleep.” He stood, raising his hands above his head and arching his back. He probably should pee too, while they were at the slow part of the movie. He didn’t do it when Harry left the room earlier for his pee break.

He watched Harry’s eyes trace down his body. “Like what you see?” Louis joked. Harry’s tongue was practically wagging. 

The words took him by surprise when Harry said, “Yeah. Think you should marry me.” His eyes were serious, searching Louis’ face, and with each moment that passed, the goofy smile faded until Harry’s lips were pressed in a line.

Louis couldn’t tell how serious he was. He hedged his bets. Harry was his, he knew this. He knew they were a forever thing. But he’d heard those words before and didn’t want to play his own hand too early. “I don’t see a ring.”

Harry’s smirk returns. “How many times do I have to ask you? I’m really hoping the next time you’ll say yes.”

He shifts his weight, and from under the throw pillow wedged against the couch’s arm, he pulls out a black velvet box. He gets down on one knee, as he snaps open the box. “Louis, I can’t imagine my life without you. You’re my best friend, the best roommate I’ve ever had, the best lover, and every day with you is better than the one before. I can picture our future so clearly.” Louis lets out a hiccuping sob. He loves Harry more than he ever thought possible. “And I hope that you want to join me on that journey. Because I know it’s not going to always be easy, or fun, but there’s no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with. So, will you please marry me,” Harry says, holding out a simple silver ring.

Louis opens his mouth to answer, then closes it again. ‘Yes’ doesn’t even come close to the all encompassing feeling of total joy that’s filling his chest. “You seem pretty serious this time,” he says instead, presenting his hand to Harry and falling to his own knees at the same time.

Harry slides the ring on Louis’ finger. It’s a perfect fit. “Never been more serious about anything. What do you say?” 

Louis blinks a few more tears out of his eyes, so he can see his new jewelry clearly. “Looks pretty great on there.”

“Sure does. Almost like you might wear it from now on? Never take it off?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Louis says. “Yes. The answer is yes. I can’t wait to be your husband. Even though this totally beats everything else I had planned.” 

Harry kisses him, long and deep, and Louis can _feel_ how much he’s loved. “Get ready for a whole lifetime of this,” Harry teases. “You’re gonna hate it.”

Louis knows just how wrong Harry is, but refuses to admit it. “Yeah, you’re really lucky I love you.”

Harry turns sappy again. “Yep. Luckiest man in the whole world.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites. I'm not currently allowing translations either. Thank you for respecting my wishes.
> 
> [Here's a shareable tumblr link if you enjoyed it, and want to reblog!](https://louandhazaf.tumblr.com/post/189976051298/to-love-in-word-and-deed-louisharry-4k)
> 
> [Here's a twitter link if you enjoyed it, and want to retweet!](https://twitter.com/Lou_and_Haz_AF/status/1212009964962746368)


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